Our Time
by lyrical-harmonies
Summary: The fact that he was a Malfoy could be discussed at a later date." A collection of drabbles and one-shots concerning the next generation. Semi-SU. Planning on TL/VW, SM/RW, and OC/OC.
1. Shakespeare! Really?

Why her book was no longer in her hands wasn't a mystery once she looked up from her seat in the Ravenclaw common room. "'Toire!" she whined. "Give it back!"

"How about… Nope! You, my dear, are going to come outside and play quidditch with your friends! You know that you and I make the best beater team out there," Victoire responded. She was speaking the truth. Madame Hooch _had_ said that they could rival _The_ Weasley Twins. (The fact that one of them was Lyra's father and the other their uncle might've had something to do with it.)

"But I was reading!" continued the fifth-year red-head.

"Since you don't grant us the pleasure of your presence on the House team, I'm going to have to say, _Yes, you're coming!_ Whether you like it or not!" Victoire was one you did not mess with.

"Who all is playing?"

"Umm… Wood, Teddy, Dominique, and Fred. It will be a nice 3-on-3 match. C'mon!" begged Victiore

"Ugh! Why? It's not like we'll be on the same team! It'll be you, Crypt and Fred against me, Teddy, and Dominique. _And_ we'll be playing Keeper, Seeker, Chaser, so there's no point if I'm a Beater!" Lyra retaliated.

"C'mon! We never get to see you Lyr! You're always up here reading. Plus, Wood is taking time off from studying for his _NEWTs_ to play with us. You can surely give up a Saturday afternoon of reading," the blonde reasoned.

Quidditch wasn't starting to sound so horrible now that the 16-year-old thought about it. _But_, she couldn't give Victoire the satisfaction of winning this ordeal; at least not for a few more minutes. "Okay, I'll go! Just let me change first!" Or not.

"Well hurry up! People are waiting!"

-

As they headed out of the common room, Lyra tossed her book back onto the coffee table in the middle of the room. "Now Lyr. Shakespeare? Really?" That earned a certain blonde a smack to the back of the head.

**A/N:** So I haven't gotten any reviews, but this was just rolling around my head this afternoon. Hope you liked it! As you should be able to tell, Victoire and Lyra are not exactly 'girly girls' as some would put it.


	2. Aburrida

The 16-year-old girl picked up a small pebble and threw it at her best friend, who, at the moment, seemed to be extremely engrossed in his studies.

"Lyra, what was that for?" asked the annoyed metamorphmagus.

"Estoy aburrida," replied the girl as she tied her dark red hair up in a ponytail.

"English please!" announced her other best friend, finally pulling her attention away from her notes.

"I'm bored!" cried Lyra melodramatically.

"Shouldn't you study?" questioned the boy.

"Teddy, I think you forget. 'Study' doesn't exist in her vocabulary, especially with a dad like Uncle George," commented the part-veela.

"Study for what Teddy? And yes Victoire, the word 'study' _does_ exist in my vocabulary. How can it not with Aunt 'Mione?" retorted Lyra smugly.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that! I just find it hard to believe that a sixth-year Gryffindor boy has better study habits than a fifth-year _Ravenclaw_ girl. I know next year at this time, I'll probably lock myself in my room with my books!" exclaimed the fourth-year Ravenclaw.

"Yes Victoire, but that's you." Victoire sent him an icy glare and then went back to her books. "So, are you going to study for your O.W.L.s or not?"

"Let me think," replied a sarcastic Lyra. "Study… O.W.L.s… Me… Nope! Don't think so!" she added matter-of-factly as she picked up another stone and skipped it across the water.

"And yet somehow-" started Victoire before Teddy cut her off.

"she'll still manage to get all 'O's. How jealous do you think 'Mione will be?"

"That depends on if she gets over her initial shock. Remember how she was after she found out 'George's daughter was sorted into Ravenclaw!'"

"Yeah, I still remember when I first saw her at Christmas my first year. 'How long are you guys going to insist on this joke?' And then Dad was like, 'Why would I joke about my daughter being in Ravenclaw?' Obviously, Aunt 'Mione didn't know me too well."

"Lyr, at that age, all you did was play quidditch and pull pranks!" scolded Victoire.

"That's still all she does," mocked Teddy. Lyra was beginning to lose her temper with the two.

"Hey, I'm gonna head up to the castle and see if the Room of Requirements won't change into that dance studio again," Lyra told her friends. Teddy and Victoire gave her a small nod and Lyra started towards the castle.

Once she was out of earshot, Victoire spoke up, "She's _really_ stressed, isn't she?"

"Very," the boy replied. "Just be glad we're going to Hogsmeade tomorrow; that should calm her a bit." Neither of the two noticed their visitor until he spoke up.

"Hey guys. Do either of you know where Rug is?" asked seventh-year Gryffindor, Gareth Wood.

"She just went up to the castle," answered Victoire, used to the nicknames Lyra and the Woods had given each other. Still, that didn't mean she understood them. "She was hoping the Room of Requirements would turn up that dance studio again."

"Is it really that bad?" Gareth inquired.

"Yeah, I think so," replied the fourth-year. It was weird (though extremely cute) how Gareth was the only one who could read Lyra at all. She was an open book in his eyes; one that he had trouble putting down. Victoire had been close friends with Lyra since she was born, yet she still couldn't understand her.

"Well, I'm gonna go back up to the castle, make sure she's alright. I'll see you two later."

"See ya!" shouted Victoire. "When do you think they'll get together?" she then whispered to Teddy with a slight blush.

"By the end of this school year. If not, then over the summer," replied Teddy, glancing up from his book. It took all of his will-power to keep his hair from turning red when he saw that she was staring at him. "You?"

"They're doing that 'family vacation' thing they do every summer in the states, right?" Teddy nodded his head. "I'll owl Aunt Alicia then; I'm not too sure I want to know how Uncle George reacts."

"Agreed."

-

Gareth quietly entered the room, afraid to disturb his friend's dancing. He found that she was too engrossed in the music to notice, even if he had set off some of her father's Whiz-bangs in the room. He was glad she had found somewhere to dance. Before Hogwarts, dancing was her life. Luckily, the room had a device for her to play her Muggle CDs that wasn't disrupted by magic. He let himself absorb the music as he watched her dance. He knew the song by heart, though only because Lyra sang it so much. _You will never take it back/I'm so in love with you._ Ending his silent reverie, he turned his focus back to his friend, watching her slow her movements to match the end of the song.

She slowly opened her eyes, feeling more relaxed, though it didn't last long. She nearly jumped out of her skin once she spotted her best friend in the mirror. As she looked down at what she was wearing, her cheeks started to sport _the_ 'Weasley Red.' No one, not even her best friend whom she'd known since diapers, was supposed to see her in the tank top and booty shorts she currently had on. She turned towards the boy, ready to confront him, but her words got caught in her throat as soon as she met his eyes. He cautiously got up, afraid that any sudden movement might scare her further. Her eyes subtly glazed over, and her felt his heart sink. Lyra never cried, and he knew that she was embarrassed to let him see her do so. The panic in her eyes was evident, as they searched the room for some form of escape. She knew that she had no place to run to, so she went with her second option. She sped towards her friend, searching for the comfort she knew he could give. The older boy held his arms out as an invitation to the safeguard he could provide. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head into his chest, as he comforted her, hugging her tightly in return. He gently lowered them both into a sitting position, with her on his lap, her legs draped over his thigh.

He heard her muffled sobs slow and no longer felt her body shaking. "What's the matter, Rug?" the boy questioned. In response, she shook her head and held him tighter. "Come on, you know you can tell me."

"Don't worry, Crypt. Its n-nothing," she choked out.

"I _am _worried, Lyr. You know that I know that something's up. It takes more than 'nothing' to make you cry."

"I guess I'm just nervous." He simply glared at her, silently telling her that he knew there was more. "I know I'm going to fail my OWLs-especially potions-then I won't be able to work in alchemy-which you know I've wanted to do all of my life-so I won't have a job and I'll end up working in my dad's shop for the rest of my life where I'll rot in my old age and I'll never be able to dance again or play quidditch and I'll never find anyone who would love little ol' stupid, ugly, emotional, unstable me and I'll be lonely for the rest of my life. I mean, who would ever love _me_?" she rambled helplessly.

"Shh, shh, calm down. Why wouldn't you pass your OWLs with all "O"s? The day you fail anything is the day James makes an Unbreakable Vow to never pull another prank!" Gareth whispered in her ear.

"That would never happen," Lyra giggled with a small hiccup.

"And why wouldn't anyone want to date you, Rug? You are the smartest person I've ever met. You can make your Aunt 'Mione look as if she doesn't know anything. Heck, you could probably take the NEWTs this year and get all "O"s. You aren't ugly either. You're far from it actually; a Veela couldn't get any farther away. And you're not emotional and unstable; you're compassionate, caring, sensitive, and empathetic. You can tell if I'm not feeling well, even if no one else can. Just the other day, you helped out that fourth-year Slytherin when he fell, even after he said all of those horrible things to you. I wish _I_ was that forgiving. Any guy you gave your time to would be lucky." His cheeks had gained a red tint at this last comment.

"Thanks Crypt, you're the best friend anyone could wish for," Lyra responded.

"Just know that I'm always here."

**A/N:** Just something I've started working on. I'll try to continue if I get enough reviews, but I have troubles writing more than five page stories. (This is three.) But then again, I have a lot of ideas for these characters. Yes, I'm fully aware that this is semi-SU and the fact that George is married and has a daughter that old totally destroys all canon in that respect.


	3. At a Later Date

"Oh, look at what we have here! It's a half-blood Weasley! I knew they were low, but I didn't think they would go _that_ low!" Lyra heard from somewhere near the front of the train.

"Blasted Slytherins!" she muttered to herself as she raced toward her cousin.

"Leave her alone!" came another voice. It wasn't someone she recognized, but at least Rose wasn't alone.

"What'd ya say Malfoy?" the first boy questioned. She ran faster, not wanting her younger cousin or her protector to have to deal with a Malfoy.

As she approached the compartment her cousin was in, the bullies scattered. _They must've seen me play beater_, she thought. She entered the compartment, to find a pale, blonde-haired boy comforting her cousin. "Rosie!" she cried. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the first year girl hiccupped. The boy was staring at Lyra, looking confused.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" the seventh year laughed. "I should probably introduce myself! I'm Lyra Weasley, and this is my cousin Rose. Thank you so much for helping her!"

"No problem," he squeaked nervously. "I'm Scorpius Malfoy." Somehow, Lyra managed to keep her expression steady. "You'd probably appreciate it if I left." He got up slowly, trying not to disturb a calmed down Rose. "I'll see you tonight, Rose! Maybe we'll be sorted into the same house!" Lyra smiled and gave him a gentle wave goodbye, glad that Rose had found a friend. The fact that he was a Malfoy could be discussed at a later date.

-

**A/N:** I wanted to do a little Scorpius/Rose preromance. So sue me! And if you're wondering where Victoire is, she's off snogging her boyfriend. Oh yeah, and these are not in chronological order! Oh, and why Scorpius/Rose? Because Ron would be through the roof, and dysfunctional Ron would be fun to write!


	4. Phobia

In the general opinion of the school, today was a very special day. Harry Potter had arranged to have lunch with his good friend Neville Longbottom, and he had agreed to teach the DADA classes for that day. Well, at least _most_ of the school was excited; the third years had been studying boggarts and were supposed to actually face them today. Lyra couldn't let anyone know her fear. Not her classmates, not her family, and especially not _the_ Harry Potter.

Lyra arrived at the DADA classroom 20 minutes early, in hopes to talk to her professor before the lesson was started. She was not-so-pleasantly surprised to see her uncle sitting at the professor's desk.

"Hi Uncle Harry."

"Hello Lyra, how are you today?" asked Harry.

"I'm just fine," Lyra smiled brightly, though it was obviously forced.

"What's on your mind, Lyr?"

"Nothing," she squeaked nervously.

"Lyra, I know it's more than that.."

"Really, it's nothing!"

"Well, this 'it' has to be something. Does it have anything to do with today's lesson?"

"No!" she answered, a little too quickly. After an awkward silence, she decided she might as well tell him. "Uncle Harry, could I just show you instead?" Or not. She held her breath as he released the boggart. This was not going to go over too well. The boggart transformed and Lyra gasped in fear.

Harry jumped in front of her and shouted, "Riddikulus!" before Lyra's small sobs turned into hysterics. That was not a lesson he wanted to relearn.

"Lyra, I don't know why you're ashamed of this. There's nothing wrong with your fear."

"B-but, that was w-what Vo-voldemort feared."

"Ahh... I see. You're afraid this means you'll be like Voldemort." She nodded meekly. "You want to know someone who was also had a great fear of death?"

"Sure," she hiccupped.

"Albus Dumbledore." Her eyes widened substantially. "It's how you choose to react to your fears that shows your character, not what you fear. You do know what you Uncle Ron's boggart is, right?"

"Yeah, it's a spider, isn't it?" Harry nodded. "But that's just Uncle Ron. It's who he is."

"And your necrophobia is just part of who you are Lyra. It's part of the bright, beautiful, funny girl I'm glad to call my niece. You see, Voldemort feared death, but for different reasons you do. He thought death was a weakness, and he was afraid of being weak. You're afraid of not having enough time on this earth to do all that you want to do, like change the world."

"Yeah, I guess you're ri- Wait! How did you know why I was afraid?"

"Like you said earlier, it's just you."

"I guess," she replied as the first students entered the classroom.

"And Lyra, you have changed the world. You're more of a hero than I've ever been."

**A/N:** Well, that was… interesting. This was more for me to sort things out than anything. Tell me what you think!


End file.
